


Sparks

by FuryNZ



Category: The Hobbit RPF
Genre: AU, Bad Luck, Developing Relationship, M/M, Nervousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-05 12:57:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1094129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FuryNZ/pseuds/FuryNZ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aidan and Dean meet by chance at a pub quiz; however Dean is overwhelmed and has a difficult time believing anybody could possibly be interested in him.  Will Aidan win him over, or will a series of bad luck events separate them forever?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beers and Broken Windows

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! My first fic. Not perfect but I needed to start somewhere! A bit sappy and more than a little cliched in places, but I had fun writing it anyway and hope others will enjoy reading it! My thanks to all the other writers here who inspire me to improve my writing through their own amazing works.

“C’mon Dean, it’ll be fun. We need somebody who can do movie and politics and geography trivia, you’ll fit in great!” Adam rocked back and forth on the arm of Dean’s tattered sofa, eagerly awaiting a reply.

“I hate politics, Adam,” he stretched his legs across his sofa, taking the last few sips out of his coffee cup and wrinkling his nose. Dean hated the last sip, it never tasted quite right. Yet he could never remember to throw it out before he drank it. 

“Two out of three is fine. C’mon...please fill in for Ken, just for tonight then?” Adam pleaded, and Dean sighed and stood, taking his coffee mug to the sink and rinsing it out and acutely aware of Adam following close behind.

“You promise it will only be this time? I really can’t think of a more boring way to spend the night. And I had things to do.”

Adam grinned. “Um, yeah. Ken should be back next week. Just tonight! It’s not that boring. We have a lot of fun. Only a few hours too.”

Dean turned and leaned against the sink, groaning. “You’re not going to leave me alone until I agree, are you?” 

“No.”

“I’ll go get changed,” he stood and headed off to the bedroom in his small apartment.

“Oh, can you drive us there too?”

“Adam…”

* * *

Dean slid up onto the barstool beside Adam, smiling in greeting to Jimmy and Stephen. “Hey guys,” he said, shivering in his overcoat.

“So he managed to talk you into it then,” Jimmy grinned ear to ear. “I told you Adam, you’d be the best at getting him here! He’ll be fantastic!”

“You guys discussed bringing me before hand?” Dean queried, rubbing his hands together for warmth.

“Only when we knew Ken was going away for a holiday,” Stephen piped up, cradling his beer in his hands. “Adam suggested you might help. You do fit our team’s theme, and we haven’t seen you in some time.”

“Theme?”

“Yeah. Every team here has a name. We’re the Starving Artists,” Jimmy laughed.

Dean couldn’t help but smile. “Starving Artists,” he said. “I’ve got a paycheck coming this week, thank you very much! I’m doing some photography for a bank’s advertising campaign in the next few days.”

“A bank huh? Well I hope you charged them accordingly for that,” Jimmy replied.

“I’ll go pay this week’s fee,” Stephen said, standing and moving towards the announcer. “I’ve got work too! I’m doing a commercial next week!”

“I have a theater production here. Rehearsals started yesterday,” Adam smiled.

“So am I the only one who’s starving?” Jimmy asked, looking around. “We’re going to have to change our name soon from the sounds of it.”

Dean glanced about as he slipped off his jacket, finally feeling warm and tucking it under the table where a few answer sheets and pens were set out. “Is it starting soon then?” Dean asked and received a chorus of nods. “I’d better get a drink,” he slipped off the stool and headed up to the bar, leaning against it and tapping his card along the edge, waiting for the bartender’s attention. He glanced around at the quartets of people perched at the tables, some tables intermingling and chatting happily to the others.

“You’re new,” a voice chirped behind him.

Dean spun around. A man with dark, curly hair and an infectious grin stared at him. At all of him, his eyes wandering up and down. Dean blushed.

“Sorry,” the man laughed, thrusting out his hand. “I’m Aidan.”

Dean smiled and offered his hand. “Dean,” he returned. “How do you know I’m new?”

“I saw you over there with the artist group,” he replied. “We do this most weeks, so do they. You get to know the competition,” he continued, the smile never leaving his face. “And I’m certain I would have noticed you by now if you’d participated before.”

Dean looked away shyly; he was intrigued but had never been approached so openly. “I’d better get back to my table,” he glanced away, trying to avoid eye contact.

“Nonsense, you haven’t got a beer. Allow me. George!” he waved his hand, and the bartender made his way down to the end. “Two of the house beer on tap tonight, thanks,” Aidan grinned at the man behind the counter and thumping a twenty on the counter, who went about pouring two glasses. “That’s how you do it here,” he said to Dean. “George will look after you once you get to know him.”

Dean smiled appreciatively, but resumed looking down, fidgeting with the card he still held in his hand. He wasn’t used to such attention and didn’t know how to cope. 

“You’re cute,” Aidan grinned, bending his knees slightly to lower himself into Dean’s view. “I’m sorry. I know I can be a little forward. So are you a starving artist, Dean, or just filling in for somebody else?”

“Filling in for somebody, but I am an artist, I suppose. Not quite starving, although sometimes it feels close,” Dean looked up again, and Aidan stood straight. “I’m surviving well enough now. I have some work tomorrow which should feed me for a month or so.”

“I see, what do you do?” Aidan took the beers from George, handing one to Dean and leaning against the counter.

“I, uh, photography,” he replied. “I do photography.”

“Weddings or family portraits?”

Dean laughed, and Aidan grinned broadly at his reaction. “There’s more to photography than just weddings and families. No, I’m doing some pictures for a bank’s online advertising campaign.”

“I see. That sounds interesting! What sort of--” Aidan was cut off by the announcer asking everyone to move to their tables so the quiz could begin.

“I guess we’d better get back,” Dean said, a tad relieved to have a diversion. “It was nice to meet you, Aidan. Thank you for the beer.”

“You too Dean. Good luck.” He winked and moved off to a table where his teammates waited.

Dean watched him slip through the tables with ease and then moved back to his own table, setting the beer down and lifting himself up onto the barstool.

“So,” Jimmy spoke up, “Fraternizing with the enemy, Deano.” He gave Dean a mock glare and glanced over to Aidan’s table. “We bring you here for one night and look what you’re getting into.”

Adam sighed. “Why couldn’t I fraternize with the enemy? I’ve seen him for months and he’s _never_ said a word to me!”

Dean flushed. “I didn’t mean to, he just started talking to me.”

“He bought you a drink,” Stephen said. 

“Uh, yeah, he did. He said he’d not seen me before and then asked what I do, that’s all.” Dean fidgeted with his shirt sleeves, wishing the announcer would begin the quiz.

“You were _blushing_ something fierce, Dean,” Jimmy pointed out.

Dean stared down into his beer.

“And you kept doing that too,” Stephen pointed out. 

“Doing what?”

“Not making eye contact.”

“You guys are the worst. Can we drop it? It was just a random encounter and it’s over anyway. Let’s just play this silly game so I can go home.”

Jimmy clapped his arm around Dean. “We need to get you out of the house more often so you can carry on a proper conversation with other people. Not a starving artist, but a reclusive one.”

“I’m just fine,” Dean muttered.

* * *

An hour and several beers later, the quiz was over and the Starving Artists were sitting dejectedly after being soundly beaten before over three quarters of the room. 

“Those were terrible questions tonight. Who’s supposed to know the primary export of Mongolia?” Jimmy flicked at the water condensing under his beer glass.

“Dean was our geography guy. Honestly, Dean, yak hair was your answer?”

“I heard they have yaks. Look, I like maps, doesn’t mean I know about each country’s primary exports.” Dean sipped at his water. “Also, remember I only turned up because Adam begged me to. Don’t give me grief, this doesn’t matter to me.”

“It was coal! I told you it was coal!” Adam said, exasperated. “I’m better at geography then you both give me credit for. I _studied_ for this quiz, you know. Because I had nothing better to do until I landed that part.”

Stephen laughed. “Excellent. Well next week, Adam, you’re paying the fee and it’s on you to answer half the questions.”

“Fine. I’ll do it too,” he shot back, shoving his empty glass to the middle of the table.

“Right. Finish your beer Adam, I need to get home. I should put on some laundry before bed,” Dean said, standing and slipping into his coat

“You wanted to stay home and do laundry instead of quiz night at the pub?” Stephen tilted his head.

“Hey, Thursday is laundry night. You do Thursdays your way and I’ll do Thursdays mine.”

Stephen shrugged and stood. “Wife will be getting restless. See you next week fellas. Thanks for stopping in, Deano, nice to see you around again. You should stop by my place when you have a chance. Maybe we can do lunch sometime. Jimmy, you still need a lift?”

“My beer’s not done,” Jimmy whined and clutched the half full glass, but stood anyway as Stephen moved off and began to follow, leaving Adam and Dean. “Wait, wait,” they heard Jimmy’s voice trailing, “I can’t afford a taxi right now!”

Adam stood and put on his own jacket. “Thanks for coming, Dean. The guys really were happy you filled in tonight. And they both said it was good to see you again, you’ve been hiding lately. They’ve been really worried about you. You don’t see anybody but me, do you? And that’s probably only because I come to your place.”

“Just busy trying to find work,” he picked up his keys and phone from the table. “Let’s get going.”

“They’re just concerned that you’re lonely or depressed or something-”

“I’m a boring person without a steady job or much of a life, because I haven’t been able to afford to do anything of interest. I guess I am lonely, but I think I always will be.” Adam looked at his friend sadly, and Dean shrugged. “That’s just the way it is, and I’m coming to terms with that.” 

They pushed through the pub and out the door, not noticing the man with the dark curly hair, Aidan, slipping out as well. They walked through the dark lot where Dean’s car was parked at the back. He walked up to the driver’s door to unlock it when he heard a crunching noise underfoot.

“What’s that?” he glanced down, seeking tiny clear bits of glass glimmering in the light from the pub. He looked back to his car, and then noticed the back window had been smashed, glass littering the backseat and ground. 

“What’s wrong?” Adam came around from the passenger side for a look.

“My window! Somebody smashed my window, I- oh, no.” Dean stopped, leaning against the car. “All my camera equipment was in the back for my shoot tomorrow! Oh, no,” he repeated, going pale. “Shit, I needed the income from this job. Shit, Adam!”

Adam looked at him with alarmed eyes. “Why did you leave your camera equipment in the back seat?” he asked innocently.

Dean turned to him, rage causing him to tremble. “Because my car was meant to be parked in the secure garage at the apartment complex all night while I did laundry! It would have been safe there! Shit!” He sunk down against the car’s frame, sitting on the pavement amongst the glass shards, not caring. “Oh Adam,” he sighed again, dropping his head. “I have terrible luck.”

Feet pounded the pavement, and Adam turned in surprise; Dean only looked up at the last moment, unconcerned. Things couldn’t get much worse.

“What’s wrong? Is somebody hurt?!” 

It was Aidan. His eyes darted between Adam and Dean, and then he caught sight of the glass on the ground. “Dean! What happened?” He knelt beside the blond man, grabbing his hands and trying to pull them away from Dean’s chest to inspect. “Are you cut? I can get a first aid kit, I know first aid-”

“No, no,” Dean shook his head, pulling his hands back to his chest and balling them up. “I’m fine, but thanks for the concern. Somebody smashed my window and took my camera equipment. I can’t do the shoot tomorrow, and I really needed the income.”

“You have insurance though, right?” Adam asked, looking to Aidan, who stood and extended a hand to Dean.

“I do,” Dean sighed. “They’ll reimburse me cash so I can purchase new equipment,” he accepted Aidan’s hand and allowed himself to be pulled up until he was standing again. “But I still have to fill in the claim, have the police report and submit it all before they’ll do that. It’ll be two weeks if I’m lucky before I see a cent to replace the gear. Oh, Adam. I really will be a starving artist. And how am I going to pay for this window to be fixed now? I can’t drive the car like this.” Dean sulked against the car, covering his face with his hands. “This is the worst night.”

Aidan frowned, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder. “How long will it take you to replace the equipment once you have the money?” 

“No time at all,” Dean replied. “There’s a shop in town I buy it from, they’ll probably have most items in stock. I’ll ask them to put it all aside so I can buy it immediately once I have the cash. But that’s not going to save tomorrow’s job.” Dean sighed and leaned against the car again, shaking his head and stuffing his cold hands into his pockets to fish his keys out. “C’mon Adam, I just want to go home.”

“Look, I know you don’t really know me,” Aidan spoke up, “But I’d like to help you out. I can loan you the money you need for the equipment, okay? You can purchase it tomorrow and do the job, and you can pay me back when the insurance claim is sorted.”

Dean looked up sharply from opening the door. “That’s a nice offer, but I really can’t accept. Do you know how much this equipment is? It’ll be a few thousand dollars at least for the bare minimums that I’ll need tomorrow.” 

“That’s fine,” Aidan replied. “I’ve got that money available, and it’s just a loan, right? You’ll have the money paid out by insurance and we’ll be settled in a few weeks, maybe a month’s time. It’ll be fine.”

Dean simply gaped at Aidan, leaning against his car for support. “You don’t even know me!”

“No, but I think I’d like to. Let me do this for you.” he smiled at Dean, holding out his hand again. 

Dean shook his head but accepted the hand. “We only met a few hours ago, and-”

“Please,” Aidan said simply, giving his hand a squeeze.

Dean glanced at Adam, who grinned and gave him a tiny nod.

“Alright then,” he replied. “How should we-”

“You can probably get your car home tonight,” Aidan said as he glanced at the damaged window, “But it won’t be roadworthy until that window’s fixed. I can pick you up at your place and take you to the shop in the morning, and to your job as well.”

Dean was certain his knees were going weak and might give out, and he realized Aidan’s hand was helping him keep his balance. “Are you sure?”

“I certainly am,” he answered.

“I need to be at the shoot by 10 am,” Dean said. “The store opens at 8 am. Both locations are in the center of town.”

“I’ll be at your place at quarter to eight, then. Where at?”

“Um, Morningside Apartments,” Dean replied. “At 27 Longvale Road. Apartment 314.”

“You two should be okay getting home despite this cracked window.” He pulled the sleeve of his jacket over his hand and ran it carefully on the window edge, scraping out a few chunks of the glass. “It looks clean, should be okay as long as you’re both sitting in front.”

Dean nodded. “I’ll let Adam sit up front this time,” he replied tiredly.

Aidan smiled broadly and laughed. “Excellent. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Dean!” 

And with that he turned and headed back into the pub. Dean wordlessly climbed into the driver’s seat, Adam sliding into the passenger’s side. Dean placed the keys into the ignition of the old car, turning to his friend and just staring. “What just happened?”

Adam grinned broadly. “Somebody likes you!”


	2. Camera Bags and Waffles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Aidan go camera shopping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the enthusiastic response (all the reads, comments & kudos) to Chapter One! Onwards. :)

True to his word, Aidan was at his apartment at exactly 7:45am. Dean opened the door to find Aidan standing there, his characteristic grin across his face, hands stuffed into denim jeans and a plaid shirt on. Somehow he looked even more beautiful this early in the morning; Dean felt he looked a mess. Despite Aidan’s offer, he was still upset and worried about his equipment loss and hadn’t slept very well, and the circles under his eyes proved it. He was afraid he would wake to find his equipment was still missing and the rest of his evening had all been a dream. 

“Good morning,” Dean said slowly, eyeing him uncertainly. “You actually came.”

“Of course I did,” Aidan replied cheerfully. “Are you ready? Store will open soon!”

“Let me just get my jacket,” Dean replied, darting back down the hall to pull it off the sofa. Aidan waited at the door, and Dean cringed when he returned. “Sorry. I should have invited you in for a cup of coffee or-”

“Nonsense, no time. We have camera equipment to purchase!”

Dean smiled; Aidan’s humor and enthusiasm was endearing. He followed the dark-haired man down the hall and stairs and outside to the carpark. “You have to let me buy you a coffee at some point today,” he said. “It’s only fair.” 

“I can accept that,” Aidan replied, moving to an over-sized black pickup truck and opening up the passenger door for Dean. “Your ride, my lord,” Aidan chirped with a mock bow.

Dean felt his cheeks heat up and climbed in, allowing Aidan to close the door behind him. He shook his head; maybe he’d wake up soon and this was a dream and he simply hadn’t reached the end yet. It was far more likely than this impetuous, charming man actually existing. 

“Right, where’s your store?” Aidan asked as he hopped into the driver’s seat, pulling on his seat belt and starting up the engine.

“Victoria Street,” Dean replied. “The river end. It’s called Snapshot, they’re a specialty camera store.”

“Oh yes, I think I know it,” Aidan said as he backed out of the parking lot and into traffic. “They have all the expensive cameras us ordinary folk can’t fathom every needing. All my pictures are taken with a cheap old phone. Good thing there’s photographers like you who know how to create the good stuff. Let’s go get you sorted, eh?” He turned to Dean, a twinkle in his eye.

Dean sat back in the seat, another blush warming his cheeks as they pressed on to the camera store. Morning traffic was heavy but fortunately Aidan was able to find a nearby carpark on the street, and slotted his large truck into the parallel space with ease.

“You’re a good driver,” Dean said aloud. “I would’ve struggled to park a push bike in there!”

“I drive a lot for work,” Aidan responded. “Big vehicles. My truck is tiny in comparison. I’ve just had a lot of practice.”

Dean opened the door and hopped out, and Aidan joined him on the footpath. Aidan slipped an arm around Dean’s back, but the smaller man pulled away from the embrace and offered his shy smile in return. “I’m fine, thanks,” he said nervously in response to the gesture. “Store’s just up here anyway.” He quickened his step and entered the store which was full of clear cabinets holding an array of equipment. Aidan furrowed his brow and looked around in confusion at the extensive equipment; even the camera displays had him perplexed as he looked at all the attachments.

“Good morning Dean, what can I help you with today?” An older woman stepped out from the back room and smiled. “Need something in particular?” 

“Hi Debbie,” Dean replied. “Yeah, I’ll need a few things. I’ll let you know in a moment.”

“Oh! And good morning to you too,” Debbie called out, spotting Aidan who was staring at camera by the front window. “So unusual to have this many customers early in the morning! Can I help you with anything, sir? Would you like to see that camera?”

“Uh, no,” Aidan stammered. “I’m just here to help Dean. I really don’t know anything about anything in here,” he offered his glowing smile to the saleswoman.

She laughed. “Dean can tell you about it all then,” she replied. “He’s very skilled, although he won’t admit it openly,” she whispered the last part as she passed by Aidan, rounding back to Dean.

“So tell me Dean, what do you need today? You look a little flustered,” she reached for a set of keys, opening the case he was staring at.

“Well, I actually need quite a lot of things,” he replied. “Nearly all of my equipment was stolen last night, and I have a job this morning. Do you still have that Nikon camera in I looked at a month ago?”

“All of it stolen? You poor thing,” she replied. “Yes, I have one of those left.”

“I’ll take that,” Dean said nervously, glancing to Aidan.

“Are you sure, there’s a newer model in I think you’d like,” Debbie replied, immediately moving to the case and reaching down to pull out another camera and handed it to him.

“It’s nice,” he replied, “But insurance money and all, it’s a little more expensive,” he whispered, trying to avoid Aidan’s ears.

“Is it better?” Aidan asked innocently, hearing everything.

“In every way,” the saleswoman replied proudly. “A camera for the true professional.”

“Let’s get the newer one, Dean,” Aidan looked over it, trying to find the on button. “This will be suitable, won’t it?”

Dean began to stare at his shoes. “Yes,” he whispered. “But it’s too expensive. I can’t ask you to purchase that. Look at the price tag! I’m not sure the insurance money will cover it either.”

“So we’ll extend my loan,” Aidan smiled, and reached out to take Dean’s chin gently and tilt his head back up. “Won’t be a problem. I’ll make sure of it.” He turned back to Debbie. “Yep, we’ll take that one.”

“Great!” she responded. “I’ll go get one. What else did you need? A new camera bag, surely? Lamps?”

Aidan clapped his hands and wrapped an arm through Dean’s, pulling him towards the bags. “What’s your favorite color, Dean? Black hides the dirt and looks good on everyone, but you look like the kinda guy who wants something brighter, am I right?”

Dean leaned against Aidan for a moment, staring at him with a happy smile. When Aidan looked at him with surprise, Dean caught himself and quickly pulled away. “Sorry,” he murmured. 

“You can do that any time you like, Dean,” Aidan said softly. “But time is flying. Let’s get the rest of your gear, yeah?”

* * *

Just after lunch time Dean had a crate full of new equipment and had finished a successful shoot. He sighed contentedly, carrying the box back toward Aidan’s pickup truck, Aidan walking in front of him carrying the light dome and light tents. Aidan opened up the truck, setting the gear into the backseat and taking the crate from Dean to place in beside it. 

“Well, now that I know I have income next week,” Dean said, “Let me buy you lunch. Including that coffee.”

“I’d like that. There’s a nice little cafe over around the corner here, Sierra, do you know it?” Aidan shut the door and locked the truck.

“I’ve seen it, but never stopped,” Dean admitted. He rubbed his hands together; it was another cold day despite the clear blue sky and sun. “I’ll try it.”

“Great,” Aidan reached out, slinging an arm around Dean’s back and pulling him into a walk; Dean didn’t resist and leaned up against him again. “They make the best waffles. I really like waffles. Breakfast food, actually. I like all breakfast food and would eat it all the time if I could. Bacon and pancakes. Waffles with berries. I buy the little waffles you can toast at home, but they’re not very good.” He looked down to see Dean trying to warm his hands up. “And they have a real fireplace. We’ll find a seat close to the fire to warm you up, yeah?”

“Aidan,” Dean said to slow him down. “This is really nice and all, and I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. But...well, I’ve not even known you for twenty-four hours. And you’ve done so much. Aren’t I keeping you from work or something?”

“Nah, I don’t work Fridays,” he says. “Sundays-Tuesdays and every other Wednesday. So it’s all good. Don’t worry, Dean. I’m really enjoying this. I’d never seen a photography shoot, it was interesting! Much better than sitting at home playing ping-pong with my cat, which was on the agenda before I met you. Now, let’s have some lunch,” he took Dean’s hand and pulled him through the front doors of the cafe.

* * *

“Oh my god Dean!” Adam stood at the kitchen table, surveying all of the new equipment. “He bought all this for you?”

“Yep,” Dean replied, sorting out the cables and tucking them into the new case. “It’s like I never lost it. In fact, we ended up with more than I had in the first place. And I’ve already insured the new items,” he noted with relief.

“And you had lunch?” Adam fiddled with the zippers. “He took you to lunch?”

“We did, but I insisted on paying for that. After all he’s done, I couldn’t let him go without some gesture on my part,” Dean said, moving over to his torn sofa and sitting down, pulling over a blanket.

Adam sat down beside him. “Wow. You’re so lucky Dean! He’s incredibly good-looking. In fact all his teammates are. I think they’re male models or something. Have you seen them all? They’re all really buff and handsome.” Adam sighed dreamily.

Dean laughed. “I’m not sure what he does but he says he works Sunday to Wednesdays. And drives a big vehicle. So I doubt it’s modelling.”

“He could do it in his off time. Maybe you can introduce me to one of his friends or something.” Adam paused, then looked seriously to Dean. “Has he asked anything of you in return?”

“Nothing. Well, not nothing,” Dean said thoughtfully. “He only asked that I come to next week’s quiz night. Just to watch, if not to play.”

“That’s great! He wants to see you again!” 

Dean smiled. “Yes, I guess he does.”

A knock at the front door had both of them turning their heads. Dean set aside the blanket and went to the door; a man stood there in a blue jumpsuit, covered in grease stains. “Is Dean here?” he asked.

“I’m Dean.”

“Hi. Frank’s the name. I’m here about the car window?”

“Uh, what?” Dean looked at him in confusion; he hadn’t phoned anybody.

“The car window. I’ve got a replacement to install. Aidan sent me.”

Dean heard a squeal from Adam in the background, and focused his thoughts back on the mechanic. “Uh, yep. My car door. How much is it? I don’t have any money on hand to pay,” he said with a frown. “I won’t have a paycheck until next week.”

Frank shook his head. “Nah, Aidan’s taken care of the bill. Gave me your name and address and said you had a rear window to be replaced.”

Dean was dumbstruck. “He-um-let me get the garage key.”

He headed back inside, meeting Adam’s eyes.

“He really likes you Dean!” Adam gushed, kneeling on the sofa and peering over at Dean.

“I just don’t know why. I’m nothing special, and I feel so inadequate. What do I have to offer a man like that?” Dean shook his head in bewilderment. “I think I like him, but I don’t want to disappointment him when he figures out how boring I am. These things never work out for me. Maybe I should cut this off before it really begins.” Dean sighed. “I don’t want to disappointment him,” he repeated.

“Dean, no!”

“I just don’t understand, Adam,” he sighed, turning back towards the waiting glass repairman. “He’s doing so much for me and I have nothing to offer in return. I can’t understand why anybody would like me. I don’t know why he would bother with me.” Dean’s shoulders slumped as he moved off toward the repairman, and Adam looked on sadly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Proofread by me (which is a terrible idea). Hopefully grammar errors are minimal - if there's anything particularly jarring, let me know and I'll fix it up!


	3. Scarves and Cars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another quiz night, but Dean's bad luck follows him there.

Quiz night rolled around again and Dean and Adam hopped off the bus, Dean reluctant to bring his car back after the previous week’s break-in. Although Dean had expected to merely watch and attend to say hello to Aidan again, he quickly learned from Adam that Ken had decided to take another week off from the team and everyone was expecting Dean to participate since he was going to be there.

Adam walked briskly up to the door, Dean on his heels. The night was cold and rainy and Dean was grateful to duck in where the fire was roaring near the tables set aside for quiz night. He unwrapped his scarf and headed toward the table that Stephen and Jimmy claimed.

“Dean!” 

Dean turned, seeing Aidan’s smiling face approaching from the door, his teammates behind him. Aidan quickly closed the distance and clapped a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “You made it! I’m really pleased you’ve come back for another week. I’ve been thinking about you since Friday.”

Dean smiled and glanced down bashfully. “I couldn’t really say no after what you did for me last Friday,” he said. “You really saved me there.” 

Aidan ushered him toward the bar. “Just happy to be able to help,” he said. “How did the photos turn out?”

“Amazing,” Dean confessed. “I’m trying to figure out what I did right that day, other than the new camera, everything was a step up from what I’m usually able to create. The project manager was really pleased and they mentioned that I could be called back for the next shoot, without even bidding for it!” he explained enthusiastically. “It’s not very often that happens.”

“Maybe it was your amazing photography assistant?” Aidan beamed. “Can I come with you on the next one?”

Dean paused, the small voice from a week ago reminding him that this wasn’t going to go anywhere. Somehow, acknowledging that nothing would happen made him a little more comfortable; he didn’t have to strive to keep up appearances. “Yeah, maybe you could,” Dean agreed. “It certainly makes me appear professional, having an assistant. I think they were impressed that I had an ‘assistant’. And having somebody to help carry gear and move things makes a difference with efficiency.”

“Awesome! Any more jobs lined up then?” Aidan waved a twenty at George behind the bar again, ordering two glasses.

“I’ve tendered for a few things,” Dean answered, taking a beer from George and thanking the friendly bartender. “I’ll let you know if I get any of the jobs. But won’t I interfere with your work?”

“If it’s one of my days off then it’s not a problem,” Aidan stated. “Or I can swap a shift with another crew. I’d do what I had to in order to help you out again.”

“What do you do?” Dean asked curiously, sipping his beer. “You haven’t said yet.”

“I, uh, work for the city,” Aidan says. “Quite dull, really. It’s fairly physical, I do like that part of it. Don’t think I’d be very good stuck behind a desk all day long.”

“Gardening or laboring or something?” Dean questioned.

“Yeah, something like that,” Aidan replied. “So let me introduce you to the guys I work with before the quiz starts. I’ve told them all about you,” he grinned ear to ear. “C’mon over, before it starts.”

Aidan introduced him to the other three men on the team; Richard and Graham and William, and a fifth man, Jed, who sat with them and rotated in on other nights. They all welcomed Dean warmly, while Aidan looked on, obviously pleased to share. Dean was feeling nervous being the center of their attention, and was relieved when he was pulled away by Stephen when the quiz bell rang. The Starving Artists plodded through the hour and a half more enthusiastically than last week, placing around the middle of the pack. 

“Success!” Jimmy shouted, clapping Adam and Stephen on the back.

“What do you mean?” Dean asked, confused. “We didn’t win.”

“No, but we’re smarter than half of this lot,” he motioned to the room. “That, to me, is a win. Set your standards low, and you’ll never be disappointed,” Jimmy clucked. 

Adam shrugged at Dean and noticed Aidan making his way through the tables. “Oh, here he comes,” he nudged Dean, who turned to looking into his beer glass again.

Aidan stepped up to Dean’s side and offered a polite smile to everybody before addressing Dean directly. “Hey, so I was thinking that we should do dinner next week instead,” he said. “How about Wednesday night? I know a great Thai place, do you like Thai food?”

Dean glanced between Adam, Stephen and Jimmy; the latter two looked at each other knowingly, while Adam sat bouncing his leg up and down. 

“We’d best be off,” Jimmy said, pulling Stephen’s arm. “See you next week, Adam. See you later, Dean.”

“Night guys,” Dean replied, then turned back to Aidan. “Well, I suppose we could. I should have a paycheck by then-”

“My treat. I’m the one asking you out,” Aidan raised his eyebrows, his eagerness for a reply evident.

“You shouldn’t spend so much money on me,” Dean frowned. “It’s not fair to you.”

“Not an issue. I’ve been in a secure job for ten years, often do overtime where I can, and I’ve not had anybody to spend it with in years, so it’s been piling up. Don’t worry about the money. Just agree to come to dinner with me.”

“Like on a date?”

“Like on a date,” Aidan’s cheeky grin emerged again.

“Go,” Adam whispered, and Aidan and Dean both looked over. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I’ll just wait by the door for you Dean,” he stood and began to wrap his scarf around. 

“Nah, it’s okay,” Aidan smirked. “If you’re taking my side, I like you and you can stay.” He thrust out a hand toward Adam. “I’m Aidan. We didn’t get a chance to meet properly last week.”

“Uhh...Adam,” he tentatively returned the handshake.

“You’re Dean’s good friend,” Aidan continued. “He mentioned you.”

“Oh, and he talked about you all last week!” Adam blurted.

Dean turned a shade of red and Aidan reached around his shoulder to pull him into a side hug. “You have no idea how cute you are when you blush. Your dimples show.”

Dean blushed harder, earning a bright laugh from Aidan. 

“I’d better return to my teammates,” Aidan replied. “I’ve got to take William home tonight. I’ll ring you about plans for Wednesday, yeah?”

“Sure,” Dean finally stuttered out a word. “Sounds good.” He watched as Aidan departed, and turned to Adam. “I’m not sure my heart can handle this,” he said.

Adam laughed. “I’m loving this! I’m living vicariously through you, Dean. At least for this relationship. I’m glad you agreed to see him again.”

“Let’s get moving,” Dean said. “The last bus isn’t far away. Don’t want to miss it.” He led Adam to the door, his eyes fixed on Aidan the entire time. As he reached the door he saw Aidan look up and they locked eyes for a moment. Aidan grinned at him, and Dean smiled back and gave him a little wave and ducked out. The pair of artists walked down to the street corner in silence, Dean’s thoughts caught up in the idea of Aidan taking him out for dinner. He reached into his pockets to slip on his gloves and ducked his head down, trying to keep the rain out of his eyes. The light turned red and Dean stepped out to cross over to the bus stop, the image of Aidan still forefront in his mind.

“Dean! Watch out!”

Dean jerked his head up, and Adam jumped back towards the kerb. Only then did he see the car flying through the intersection, ignoring the red light, and heading straight for him. He had only a few moments to launch himself toward the kerb where Adam waited with wide eyes, but he heard and felt a thump, followed by a blinding pain. Dean fell to the kerb, letting out a howl of agony and frustration. 

“Oh god, Dean!” Adam knelt beside him, his hands hovering but unsure what to do. “Dean! Are you badly hurt? I’ll call an ambulance!” He yanked his phone out, and groaned. “Battery’s flat. I need to call from in the pub,” he glanced down at his friend. Dean lay on his side, half in the road and half on the footpath, moaning. His left leg was bent awkwardly and blood seeped through his pant leg. “Oh Dean,” Adam whimpered, “Can you pull yourself up onto the foothpath? I don’t want to leave you in the road and I don’t want to hurt you anymore!”

Dean groaned, rolling slightly and letting out a stifled cry as his leg shifted, and the bloodstain grew larger. 

“What do I do, what do I do?” Adam looked nervously about, but it was late, rainy and cold and the street was empty.

“Hey!” a voice called out from the direction of the pub, and footsteps hurriedly ran over. Adam glanced up to see one of Aidan’s teammates, who had fortunately seen the two figures on the ground in the distance, despite the darkness and driving rain. The man glanced between them. “I need to move you, Dean,” he said. 

Dean looked up, recognizing the one called Jed. “Okay,” he whispered. “Hurts real bad,” he moaned.

“I’m sure it does. Just going to move you up onto the footpath, where it’s safer. Then I’ll go get Aidan and we’ll call an ambulance, okay?”

Dean nodded, and moments later Jed was behind him and looped his arms under Dean’s, and gently rotated his position until he was fully on the footpath. Dean tried to roll up, reaching for his leg, but fell back flat to the concrete with a shaky breath. Jed took off at a quick speed back into the pub. Moments later, the rest of the team ran out, Aidan at the front.

“Dean!” Aidan shouted, closing the distanced faster than the others. “What happened?”

Dean groaned again as he shifted his leg slightly, his head falling back and eyes closed, leaning on to his elbows. Aidan quickly moved in behind him to support his back, and Dean leaned against his chest, the brunet’s arm wrapping around him gently.

Adam spoke up for his friend. “A car ran a red light,” he said. “I shouted for Dean and he saw it and tried to jump out of the way,” he explained. “It looked like it was only his legs that were hit. It could have been much worse,” Adam looked close to tears, his eyes darting between Dean’s leg and his friend’s pained face.

Another one of Aidan’s coworkers, William, crouched down and pulled Dean’s pant leg up slightly, eliciting a short cry of pain from Dean. “It’s a bad break,” he muttered. Aidan looked down, flinching at the sight. 

Richard looked down, phone in hand. “I’m getting an ambulance,” he advised. “He needs to head to the ER and they should be able to secure it best and help with the pain.” He looked to Aidan. “We’ll take care of the details. Just keep him calm,” he instructed, and Aidan nodded.

“I’ll grab some bandages and something from the pub to splint it,” Jed said. “We can wrap it with a scarf or two,” he glanced up at Adam, who took the hint and removed his own scarf. “We should get him out of the rain once it’s stable.”

Adam sat down helplessly beside Dean, holding his hand although he doubted that Dean realized it. He watched Aidan’s team, who all reacted calmly and were working to help his friend. Aidan continued to support Dean’s upper body, whispering into his ear and gently rubbing his shoulder. Dean had gone pale and his eyes were closed, although he occasionally tried to move and groaned deeply every time his leg shifted. 

“Stay still, Dean. We’re going to splint that break so we can move you inside until the ambulance arrives,” Aidan whispered. “You’ll be fine. Just a little broken bone is all. Do you have any pain elsewhere?”

“Fell onto my side,” he mumbled. “It’s sore. But hard to tell, the leg hurts too much to feel anything else.” Dean finally opened his eyes, gritting his teeth occasionally through the pain. “Are you all medics?”

Aidan smiled. “We all know basic first aid. Part of the job.”

Dean let out a forced chuckle. “Here you are, helping me again. I must seem like a bad omen. Bringer of bad luck.”

“Nonsense,” Aidan said, glancing back to see Jed returning with some bandages and heavy cardboard, followed by George and the bar manager. “Let’s get you wrapped up and we’ll wait inside.”

Dean managed a nod, closing his eyes again as Jed and William began to secure his leg, his fingers tightly entwined with Aidan’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Dean. Next chapter may be tomorrow or the day after due to visiting in-laws over Christmas! It's ready to go, it's just a matter of internet access. In fact it's all written and I'm only polishing the chapters day to day before posting!


	4. Casts and Movies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean heads home from the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone's having a good holiday season. :D

On midday Saturday Dean was discharged from the hospital. Surgery was standard and he now had a metal pin in his leg while the bone mended. The cast however was huge, covering his heel up past his knee; the sensation of having his knee and ankle immobile was frustrating. The nurse announced that his ride had arrived, and sent an orderly to help Dean dress in his own clothes. He’d been given a pair of crutches but due to his bruised arm and being generally sore and exhausted from his pain medications, he found it very difficult to do any more than simply stand on his own, and even then only for a short time.

The nurse frowned as Dean wobbled on his feet and asked the orderly to bring a wheelchair, helping him to sit back down on the bed. “Do you have anybody to look after you until you can move around easier?” 

“He does, yeah,” a voice speaks up from the door. “I’ll make sure he’s taken care of.”

Dean looked up with mild surprise. Aidan smiled softly at him in the doorway, not Adam who he had expected. “Aidan,” he said breathlessly, “I thought Adam-”

“I called him up and told him I wanted to pick you up; I haven’t had a chance to talk to you since the accident! I came by on Friday but you were asleep; I waited awhile but you were passed out soundly,” he said fondly. “And Adam has some rehearsal he’s meant to be at, so he’s happy for the help. Besides, I’m not sure he can get you from point A to point B.” Aidan glanced over the large cast. “That’s going to make things a little awkward for you.”

“They’re bringing in a wheelchair,” Dean frowned. “It’s a bit difficult to move with this cast on. And I think every muscle still hurts. And the medication is making the world spin a little.” He plucked at the edge of the cast, pulling at the loose threads.

Aidan walked in and sat beside Dean on the hospital bed. “Well it’s a good thing I”m here then,” he said. “Adam and I discussed our schedules, and between the two of us, we can make sure you’ve got somebody with you at least twenty hours of the day, until you’re confident of getting around on your own. So you have nothing to worry about.”

“Are you sure? I feel terrible dragging everybody away from what they’re meant to be doing to help me…”

“What I’m meant to be doing is looking after you. Now let’s get you into this chair and home. I’ll stay with you today and Adam tomorrow. For the next few days Adam will be there through the day, and I’ll sit in during the evenings, after my shifts, and Adam can go to his rehearsals.” Aidan stood and offered his arm to Dean, who pulled himself up to it. Leaning heavily on Aidan and the orderly, he eased himself down into the wheelchair, and the orderly helped him prop his leg up on the chair’s brace. The nurse handed over a pair of crutches that he’d move around on in a few days.

“I’ve got him from here,” Aidan said, moving to the back and pushing the chair out and through the corridors. They moved in silence until they reached Aidan’s truck. Aidan made sure the seat was set back as far as possible, stored the crutches and Dean watched with some trepidation.

“Your truck sits rather high,” Dean bit his lip. “I’m not sure I can pull myself up.”

“Don’t have to,” Aidan responded.

“You going to make me ride in the back?” Dean laughed.

Aidan turned with a grin, pleased with Dean’s laugh. “I think we’ll pass on that idea. Up you go,” he pulled the smaller man up to stand on his right leg, and Dean took an unsteady hop toward the vehicle, one hand wrapped into Aidan’s sleeve. 

“Ready?” 

“For what?”

Aidan slipped his hands under the artist’s back and thighs, and swept him up. Dean flailed for a moment as the ground came out from under him and wrapped his arms around Aidan’s shoulders.

“Aidan!” he cried out in surprise. But the brunet turned, lifting him easily into the truck and settled him into the passenger seat. 

“There we go. No trouble at all. I’ll go return the wheelchair. Don’t go anywhere on me now, alright?” he said with a cheeky grin, disappearing around the back.. 

Dean closed his eyes and let his head back against the seat. While he’d had a fairly terrible week - being robbed and then hit by a car, exactly a week apart - he was aware that he’d also managed to meet somebody who cared for him a great deal. And that part frightened Dean terribly; he still wasn’t sure what he had to offer. Financially, he was a mess; socially, he was almost non-existent. Physically, he felt average. Aidan, on the other hand, seemed to be financially secure, the the life of the party, and physically strong and gorgeous. Dean sighed.

“Feel sick?” 

Dean’s eyes opened quickly and he turned to see Aidan climbing in beside him. “No, sorry. Just lost in thought.”

Aidan reached over and patted him gently on his thigh. “Don’t worry. Everything will turn out right,” he said, starting the truck up and departing the hospital parking lot.

“You know how they say bad things happen in threes?” Dean asked.

“Are you superstitious?”

“Well, it really does seem to happen that way. This is two. I’m just wondering what the third one will be,” Dean frowned and turned away to watch their surroundings as Aidan drove.

“Are you also afraid of black cats, ladders? Do you have a pair of lucky underwear?”

“I’m wearing the same underwear as when my car window was broken. I’m pretty sure I have unlucky underwear.”

Aidan raised an eyebrow and gripped the steering wheel. “Well, we’d better get those off as soon as you’re home then.”

Dean laughed and shook his head. They finished the trip in silence, Dean already begin to nod off into sleep on the short drive home. He was surprised to find Aidan watching him with a small smile when he opened his eyes, the truck parked outside his apartment complex.

“We’re here?’ he looked around groggily. “You should have nudged me. I wasn’t asleep.”

“I think you were. You look exhausted; let’s get you to bed,” his eyes crinkled and he beamed at Dean. 

Aidan was out of his truck and around to his side of the truck in the time it took Dean to merely unlock the seatbelt and turn in the chair. “Put your hands on my shoulders to steady yourself,” Aidan said, directing Dean’s hands down. He reached out and put his hands on Dean’s torso, and gently lowered him from the cab down to the pavement. 

“Good,” Aidan smiled, watching Dean carefully. “Now arm around me,” he pulled Dean’s arm up over his shoulder. “I know it’s going to be sore and tiring, but it’s not much further.” He placed his left hand up onto Dean’s hand which draped over him, and his right arm around the blond man’s midsection to steady and hold him up. “Alright, slow hops.”

As they crossed into the building, Dean spluttered, “Rubbish man!”

“What?” Aidan looked to him, startled.

“You said you work for the city, drive a big vehicle, the job is physically demanding, and know some first aid. You collect rubbish, and that’s why you didn’t want to tell me.”

Aidan dropped his head back and laughed. “I think they get the fancy title of sanitation engineer nowadays. But no, I don’t drive a rubbish truck. C’mon, nearly there.”

Dean nodded and began taking small steps towards the lift, finding himself more and more grateful for Aidan’s steady presence. They finally made their way to the small lift and took it up two levels. Dean laughed. “I don’t think I’ve used the lift the entire time I’ve lived here,” he said.

“I hope you won’t be using anything but this lift for the next couple months,” Aidan replied. “And not leaving your apartment for the next week.”

Dean’s shoulders slumped. “Being confined here sounds terrible,” he moaned. “Until today I was happy to sit at home by myself. But not having a choice makes me resent the idea.”

“I’ll keep you company,” Aidan wrapped his arm around Dean again and half pulled him forward from the lift. “C’mon, limp-along. Almost there. I’ll make you a coffee.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Dean took a deliberate large hop, surprising Aidan who tightened his hold.

“Don’t get too eager on me. Take it easy,” Aidan slowed him down into a steady motion until they finally reached Dean’s door. Aidan took the key out of his pocket, unlocking it and pushing the door wide open. He walked through, pulling Dean along until they reached the sofa, and helped him sit and elevate his leg on the coffee table. 

Dean’s head fell back against the sofa pillow and closed his eyes; his forehead was sweaty and his hair clung to his brow. Aidan frowned and he moved to the bathroom, returning with a cool cloth. Dean’s eyes fluttered open as Aidan wiped his forehead. 

“Sorry, I‘m tired after that,” he mumbled. “Promised coffee.”

Aidan smiled. “I did. Let me put the kettle on,” he stood and moved to the kitchen, preparing the hot water.

“Cold,” Dean muttered, trying to burrow in on himself. 

“Always so cold,” Aidan said with concern. “Let me help with that.” Aidan went quickly to Dean’s room, finding a blanket in the wardrobe and returning to drape it over his trembling form, tucking the edges under his legs. “Better?”

“Mmm, yes.”

“Coffee’s nearly ready,” he said. “That should help warm you up. The heating in this place is terrible,” he glanced around at the old apartment. “How do people stay warm here?”

“I think most the neighbors have space heaters,” Dean said. “Mine broke a few weeks back, haven’t replaced it yet. Just use blankets.”

The sound of boiling water pulled Aidan away, and he placed a pillow at Dean’s side as he stood. “Back in a moment.” Aidan went back to the kitchen, finishing up and returning with two steaming mugs and cautiously watching to make sure Dean had a good grip on the hot drink.

“Put on a movie?” Dean asked.

Aidan nodded. “If you want. But you should really rest, are you sure? I can help you to your bed after you finish your drink-”

“No,” Dean said simply, exhaustion heavy in his reply. “I can sleep here. Warmer out here. Just a movie to distract me until then.”

“Okay,” Aidan stood and moved over to the pile of DVDs. “Which one?”

“You pick.”

Aidan thumbed through the small selection, finally withdrawing one and popping it into the DVD player, checking back occasionally to make sure Dean was still awake while he held up the coffee cup. He leaned over, popping the DVD into the player when he heard a chuckle behind him.

“What are you giggling at?” he asked.

Dean pointed at Aidan. “You have a nice ass. Just keep putting the movie in.”

Aidan shook his head, finishing his task and moving back to Dean. “I think I like you in this exhausted state,” he smiled. “Completely uninhibited. I can’t wait to see what you’re like drunk.”

“Don’t get drunk.”

“I bet you do.”

“Get under the blanket with me,” Dean lifted the covers with his free hand. Aidan climbed onto the sofa, snuggling in beside him. The opening titles to Forrest Gump began playing on the tv, and Dean smiled. “I like this one,” he whispered, finishing up his coffee, wrinkling his nose at the last sip.

Aidan took the mug from his hands and set it on the coffee table, then leaned back against the sofa. Dean tilted over, allowing his head to rest against Aidan’s shoulder. Aidan glanced over and smiled happily. “I hope you remember all of this when the drugs and exhaustion have left your system. Something tells me the daily on-edge Dean would be mortified at this behavior.” Aidan turned to plant a small kiss on Dean’s nose.

“Mmm,” Dean’s eyes slipped closed. “Like you.”

“Like you too, Dean,” Aidan said as the blond slipped off into sleep, leaving Aidan to watch the movie on his own, but in truth all of his attentions were focused on Dean and nothing else. He nuzzled against Dean’s hair and closed his eyes.


	5. Reports and Alarms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aidan wanted to never see Dean while he was working.

Aidan sat at Graham’s desk, thumping his pen against the desktop. He didn’t have a desk of his own and he was eternally grateful for that. He put the pen down, picking up a small soft soccer ball and throwing it against the wall to amuse himself.

“Aidan, are you finished that incident report yet? I need to submit it today,” Richard walked in, leaning against the door frame. “You’ve been writing it for two days, it should have only taken thirty minutes.”

“Yeah,” Aidan groaned. “I think it’s done enough. Just need to sign it,” he set the ball down and spun around in the chair. “Bored, Richard. Bored.” 

“Boring is good around here, remember?” Richard raised his eyes at Aidan.

Aidan chuckled. “I know. I just want the time to pass by so I can go look after Dean. I know he’s probably passed out anyway from the medication...but I’d rather just be there to make sure he’s comfortable.”

Richard smiled at the young man. “Really taken with him, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Aidan stared to the side, a smile creeping into his features as his thoughts were obviously elsewhere. “You should have seen him when he did his photography shoot,” Aidan said. “He really takes control, and he has such an eye for placing things, and where the light should be. He turned ordinary scenes into something that even I found visually interesting. I really enjoyed watching him work.”

“Have you told him what you do yet?” 

“No,” Aidan frowned and spun the chair around. “I’m really hoping I can win him over so he isn’t...reluctant when I explain.”

“You need to tell him sooner rather than later, Aidan. Some people handle our profession better than others. If he can’t...take it as a compliment that likes you so much that he’s too afraid to see something go wrong and lose you.”

“I tried to tell myself that last time,” Aidan sighed. “Didn’t help much. But maybe that was a blessing in disguise. Dean is so much more than anybody else ever was to me.”

Richard took a few steps into the small office and lay a hand on the back of Aidan’s neck, pulling him up looking at him sternly, then relaxing. “Just let it happen. Most of us have been in your situation at one time or another. You’re still young, Aidan, there’s plenty of time to sort these things out. You’re an amazing and caring person, and you’re going to make somebody very happy someday.” Richard let go and returned to the door frame. “And, if you want to pass some time, the second truck can use a wash, why don’t you occupy yourself with that for a while? And check the water pressure gauges, I think one of them was out. But sign that damn report first and put it on my desk.” Richard turned away, moving down the hall to his own office.

Aidan sighed, Richard’s words heavy in his mind. He stood stiffly from Graham’s chair and scribbled his signature along the bottom of the page. He walked along the corridor, setting the report into Richard’s office and looking into the common room where Jed and William were watching television. He continued past and descended down to the garage, finding Graham coiling a hose. 

“Decided to make yourself useful?” Graham smirked at him. “Instead of moping about?”

“Not moping. Thinking. And yeah. At least it will make the time go by,” Aidan acknowledged. Moments later the station’s siren went off, followed by the dispatcher’s voice transmitting loudly through the building.

_\--call from Morningside Apartments. 27 Longvale Rd. Repeat, Morningside Apartments, 27 Longvale Rd. Confirmed structural fire. Repeat, 27 Longvale Rd._

Aidan froze, his eyes going wide. “Shit! Graham! Shit shit shit!”

“Aidan?” Graham looked over with concern, already climbing into his yellow pants and suspenders; Jed and William joined them quickly and began to don their own fireproof gear. 

“Dean!” Dean lives there! Graham, he’s on the third floor with a broken leg! He’ll struggle to get out! Faster, get in the truck faster!” Aidan began to pull himself up towards the driver’s seat where he normally sat.

“No,” Graham reached up, hooking an arm around his waist and pulled him back down to the ground. “I’ll drive this time. In the back.”

Aidan climbed up to the back seat, pulling his boots on and grabbing at his jacket. Jed hopped in beside him, William slipped into the last seat up front. Out the window Aidan saw Richard jumping into the command truck and driving out as well. Graham turned on the siren and pulled the fire truck into traffic. Aidan rested his head back against the seat, feeling restless and helpless as they drive toward the scene.

* * *

The smoke from the fire was visible from blocks away, billowing into a clear blue sky; Aidan moaned as they approached. He had hoped it was minor and hadn’t spread far, but it was far worse than he expected. The fire had taken quickly, and he realized he wasn’t surprised based on what he’d seen inside the building. It was old and made of timber. _I think most the neighbors have space heaters,_ Dean’s voice played in his head, and Aidan shook his head, clawing to get out of the truck. A large number of people were across the road; some wore jackets over old house clothes and slippers.. Most pointed and had their hands over mouths; a few clutched at terrified pets or children. Aidan’s eyes scanned the crowd, but he didn’t see Dean or Adam. He hoped that the artist was standing on the other side of the complex, safe, but his gut feeling told him otherwise. He jumped down from the truck and headed for the building, but Graham was suddenly in his path and blocking him.

“Aidan, I want you to stay at the truck and look after the hoses. Get a hydrant open and the water flowing. We need to make the scene safe before we go inside,” Graham said. “You wait for my instruction, understood?”

“But Graham, look at it!” he motioned to the building, flames poking through the roof and dark smoke pouring at of every window. “He doesn’t have that much time. Let me go in!”

A hand came down from behwind, settling gently on Aidan’s shoulder. “We’ll do everything we can Aidan. It’s too dangerous. Now get on those hoses so we can help him! I’ll have the crews on the other side look for him over there.” Richard’s voice filled the space beside him, and Aidan nodded, grabbing a wrench and running to the hydrant to hook up a hose.

“It’s on!” he shouted and signalled to the rest of the crew, and Jed and William began to douse flames nearest to them. Aidan stood nervously by the truck, awaiting orders. Graham and Richard stood on the foothpath, motioning to parts of the building while they formulated a plan to bring the raging fire under control. Richard had his portable radio where he relayed orders to additional crews turning up on the other side of the complex.

Aidan glanced up towards the apartment block, then back down the footpath. There he saw Adam in the distance, running as quickly as he could from down the block, grocery bags in hand; that told him all he needed to know. A cold chill ran through him. “Dean,” he whispered. He straightened his jacket, slipping to the side of the truck and finding his metro helmet, strapping it on and turning on the radio mounted in the headpiece. He slid up the door, glancing to the side to check that the rest of the crew was still firmly engrossed in their own duties and not looking at him. He pulled out his breathing apparatus, putting the equipment on and walking around the edge of the truck. Richard and Graham would be very upset and angry, but he would never forgive himself if Dean was trapped and he had done nothing but stood at the truck. His own safety didn’t matter to him anymore. He had to find Dean.

Taking a deep breath and pulling the visor of the helmet down, he ran for the building’s side door. He didn’t look back, but moments later he could hear Richard and Graham shouting at him, muffled by his helmet. He put them out of mind, increasing his speed and refocused on finding Dean. This part of the building wasn’t in flames yet, but the smoke from the flames further down had permeated every open space. Aidan pressed on to the stairwell, quickly moving up the to third floor.

He ducked low, pushing his way through the darkness and smoke. There was no noise on the third floor, save his own breathing. He moved down the hall, rubbing his hands along the door numbers to find Dean’s apartment, being mindful of obstacles on the floor as well. The smoke was even thicker on the top level, and as he drew closer to apartment 314 he could then hear the cracking of wood nearby; the fire wasn’t visible from the hall but he knew it was close.

_Aidan! Get out of there now! Aidan, that’s an order! It’s not safe to be in there! Come back, we’ll secure the structure and then we can retrieve him. Aidan!?_

Aidan ignored Richard’s voice over the communications link in his helmet, realizing he had turned the radio on by habit. His hands moved over another set of numbers and he leaned, gaining enough visibility to see a four, and twisted the door handle. It wouldn't budge. He leaned back, lifting his foot and planting a strong kick against the door near the handle as he’d been taught, and the door flew open, banging against the wall. 

“Dean!” he called out, although the mask muffled his shouts. “Dean!”

He felt his way through the apartment, the smoke thick in the air. He stumbled into the sofa and dropped down, finding it empty. Aidan continued to feel and look around the open lounge area, but there were no signs of him. He moved to the bedroom next to check the bed; the covers were pushed aside but it was empty. He looked around the edges of the room. “Dean,” he called out, “Please, where are you?”

He headed to the bathroom door, pushing it open. The air was cleaner thanks to a wet towel that had been pressed up against the door, and the dark smoke quickly rushed in. But he had the time he needed to cast his eyes around the room. He saw a foot, encased in a soft bandage, and then another one in the bright blue cast. Dean lay on the floor under the window, not moving, having tried to reach the bathroom window for fresh air.

“Oh no, Dean.” He knelt down, sliding his arm under the blond’s back to pull him up and was rewarded with a cough. “Dean!” Aidan’s eyes lit up and he drew him close to his chest.

“A-Aid?” he coughed. The hot air stung his eyes and soot was collecting on his face, but he blinked up and finally made eye contact. “Aidan...you look like a firefighter,” Dean said, a small smile on his face but his voice barely above a hoarse whisper.

Aidan felt tears of relief collect in his eyes. “That’s right, Dean, I do,” he smiled down, trying to give Dean a sense of comfort, and cradling his head with a gloved hand. “I’m going to carry you out of here now, okay?” A large bang and crash sounded from nearby, distracting Aidan momentarily.

“Okay, Dean?” He looked back down, but the injured artist’s eyes had slipped close and he didn’t reply. “Dean-”

_Aidan! Get out! The second level is collapsing at the north corner, Aidan!_

Aidan thumbed the transmitter. “I found him, he was in the bathroom! We’re leaving his apartment now.” He pulled Dean up; he’d rather not use the traditional yet outdated fireman’s carry because it would put him higher up the smoke, yet he needed to carry him safely down the stairs. He managed to lift Dean up to near standing without too much trouble, despite the cast covering his leg.

“Hang on Dean, please!”

_AIDAN!_

Aidan flinched at Richard’s shout through the headpiece. An explosion rocked the building from nearby; the surroundings rumbled and he glanced about the small space. He lifted Dean long enough to shove him forward and back down and throw himself over him. The floor fell away, Aidan and Dean disappearing into a haze of smoke and fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger!
> 
> I learned from my cousin, a senior firefighter and in the profession for over 25 years now, that firefighters have one of the highest rates of divorce, and also have difficulty forming relationships. People are happy to date firefighters, but apparently won't commit to long term relationships with them, due to fear of loss, and also because firefighters are very dedicated to their roles and firefighting families. It's very stressful for the spouses, and there are associations to help spouses of firefighters.


	6. Smoke and Tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richard moves in to the collapsed structure to look for Aidan and Dean.

Richard, Graham, Jed and William watched the structure collapse in a cloud of smoke, fire and dust. Richard reached into his command vehicle, pulling on his fireproof pants, jacket and hat in preparation to run in; Graham was holding Jed back, yelling at him to get back on the hose. Two other crews came from the other side to assist. Richard ran across the street to where residents were watching, mouths open and in shock. He grabbed a man by the shoulder. “Where would apartment 314 have been?” he asked.

“In the middle,” the man motioned to the collapsed structure. “Right in there,” he indicated.

“Jed!” Richard ran over, pointing. “Aim in that area!”

Jed and William swung the hose around, trying to cool the smouldering pile of rubble. Richard glanced to Graham. “That’s enough, I’m going in,” he said, moving quickly towards the debris, pulling the visor on his helmet down and turning the air supply on.

“Richard!” Graham shouted with frustration, unsure how to challenge his superior when he wanted Aidan out safely just as much. He followed Richard to the edge of the building, and the Fire Chief pressed onward, pushing aside the hot timber. Nearby, a small patch erupted into orange flame again, and Graham motioned toward Jed and William to concentrate on that section. His attention to Richard was diverted by shouting behind him. Adam ran down the path, grocery and takeaway bags still in his hands. 

“Where is Dean, is he alright?” he ran straight up to Graham, recognizing him from the quiz nights. “Dean, the one with the broken leg from the car accident, he lives up there! Oh god,” Adam moaned, “I only left for ten minutes to get him some groceries and lunch! Where is he?”

Graham took Adam by the shoulder, steering him away from the building and pushing him towards the road. “They’re looking for him,” he explained. “Stay back here. We’ll let you know when we do.” Adam finally set the grocery bags down by the wheel of the truck, pacing back and forth, his eyes wide with anxiety and fear and peering into the smoky debris to see glimpses of a figure moving. 

Inside the wrecked building, the heat made Richard dizzy; he knew he shouldn’t be in the rubble while it was still so hot. It had been some time since he’d entered a hot zone since he’d become Captain of the station. But Aidan had been under his command for just over ten years now, like the others, and he was practically family. In hindsight, Richard realized he had a large soft spot for the young man just out of secondary school who turned up, knocking on the station’s door, asking for a job. He knew very little about the profession at that stage, but he trained well and was extremely dedicated, learning all he could about his work. Richard dropped his chin and pressed through the rubble, looking for signs of a bathroom, and watching his step carefully. The smoke grew thicker again, obscuring his view.

“Aidan!” he called out, pulling off charred timber and heaving it toward the grass. He found the burnt remains of a television set, and continue on until he found a sink and began to pull boards up. He realized it could be the kitchen area, but he held his breath, hoping it came from the bathroom. He pulled off another two boards, only partly damaged by ash, and found a strip of reflective silver on yellow, covered in soot and loose beams.

“Aidan,” he gasped, pulling away at the boards, his fingers burning with the heat. It was Aidan’s back, and he was face down in the bathtub. “Aidan!” Richard continued to clear away debris, hoping for some sign of life from the figure. Richard pulled on Aidan’s arm, and suddenly he sat back and looked up, eyes wide with surprise.

“Richard?!” 

“Aidan, thank god,” he yanked the young man to his feet, but he was wavering unsteadily. “Are you hurt? Let’s get you out.”

“Dean!” Aidan looked back down, and then Richard saw Dean on the bottom of the bathtub, unresponsive. “Not leaving him!” Aidan leaned back toward the photographer, grasping his shoulder and trying to pull him up.

“Graham!” Richard called through the radio. “I’ve got them both, but I need a hand to get them out!” 

Moments later Graham smashed through the charred wooden girders to reach the three men. Richard wrapped his arms around Aidan’s torso and began to drag him away, despite his protests as he weakly reached for Dean. Graham stepped in and lifted Dean from the bathtub, cradling the limp body and moving to follow Richard and Aidan out of the rubble to the grass berm. 

Richard gently let Aidan down to sit in the grass, then sat beside him and began to tear off his helmet and other gear. “Aidan? Are you alright?” Aidan flinched as Richard helped him out of his jacket, and looked at the limb, a large bruise already forming on the forearm. “Is it just your arm?”

“I think so,” Aidan whispered. “Think I deflected a beam with my arm when the roof gave way,” he panted. “Sore legs from the fall too. Hurts but it’ll be okay.” 

Richard sighed with relief. “We can both live with that then.” 

Graham appeared beside them, carefully setting Dean down in the grass; his jaw was slack and his body still. Soot covered his skin, and falling debris had burned his collarbone and cheek; fortunately Aidan had been able to block most of the falling embers and boards with his own body, clad in the protective fireman’s gear. Graham placed fingers against his neck, leaning in towards his face. “No pulse, not breathing. Where is the ambulance?”

“Dean!” Aidan crawled over, wincing as he put weight on his injured arm. He pushed Graham aside and immediately began chest compressions. Graham glanced helplessly at Richard, who watched with concern.

“Aidan, let us do this, you’re hurt-”

Aidan didn’t reply but began mouth to mouth, giving Dean two large breaths then continuing to pump Dean’s heart for him. “Dean,” he whispered, “Wake up.” The blond’s body only moved with the pressure from Aidan’s compressions and breaths, and Graham frowned at Richard, his concern moving from Dean to Aidan with the passage of time.

“Ambulance is here!” Jed’s voice called from where he and William were still hosing down hot spots from the apartment’s wreckage, watching the unfolding scene with concern, and the vehicle pulled up nearby, leaving a healthy distance between itself and the smouldering building.

Richard waved frantically at the two men disembarking from the vehicle. “Over here!” he shouted, relief coursing through when the smaller man began running; he recognized both men from previous call-outs. “Martin,” he addressed the shorter man, the taller one still gathering gear from the back. “We have one casualty from the building, a man who was trapped upstairs with a broken leg. No pulse,” he said. “Aidan has been doing CPR for a couple minutes now. He’s been out for longer.”

Martin glanced to Richard, frowning; Richard understood what Martin wanted to say. “Ian! Bring the defibrillator and oxygen!”

“Thank you, Martin,” Richard replied gratefully.

Martin looked down at the mess of dark curls hunched over a soot-covered form. “Aidan, I need you to move now so Ian and I can try to save him.”

Aidan turned up at Martin, and the paramedic was surprised to see tears running down the normally stoic young fireman’s cheeks. “Please, please help him!”

“We’ll try,” he said, glancing back up to Richard for confirmation of what he suspected, already continuing the chest compressions while Ian jogged over with the equipment.

“This is Dean,” said Richard, indicating the still form. “He and Aidan have been close as of recently.”

Martin nodded and gave another look to Aidan, who was biting his lip with more tears filling his eyes. “Aidan, I promise we’ll do everything we can.”

“Come away, Aidan,” Richard grabbed his uninjured arm, pulling him further back from the scene until he could push him into the passenger seat of the command truck. On the ground, Ian was prepping the machine to try and restart Dean’s heart. Adam ran over to where Richard was keep Aidan from standing up again. “Aidan? Is - was - Dean?”

Aidan didn’t reply. Richard grasped the door to push it close and keep Aidan away from the scene while Adam bit his nails and looked on nervously, but keeping his distance. “Dean! Oh my god, Dean!” He turned back to Aidan sitting in the vehicle, pale and staring towards the paramedics working on the prone figure in the grass. “I only left to buy him soon food, Aidan, I swear, only a few minutes! He’ll be alright, won’t he? He’s okay, he just needs air, right?” Adam continued to ramble on in his grief and fear.

Aidan looked sadly to Adam, then a flicker of anger crossed his face, and he suddenly pushed the door open wide and darted past Richard, who unsuccessfully grasped at his good arm. “Aidan, come back!” Adam ran after Aidan; Richard chased after the pair, shouting for Graham’s help. Graham intercepted Adam, wrapping an arm around the young actor’s shoulders and turning him to keep him from seeing the paramedics working on Dean’s prone form. Richard wasn’t able to catch Aidan so easily, and the young fireman was back in the grass at Dean’s side, clutching at his limp hand.

“Dean, Dean, please wake up. I have so much I want to show you, to do with you,” Aidan whispered, pulling the hand up and kissing it gently. “I don’t ever want to be alone again. I want you to share everything with me. Please wake up.”

Richard crouched behind Aidan, wrapping his arms around Aidan’s shoulders to pull him away. “Aidan, they need space to work,” he repeated, looking to Martin for confirmation. Martin returned the glance, but shook his head sadly. 

“Aidan,” Richard said gently, “Let him go.”

Aidan looked up, seeing Richard, Martin and Ian all looking back at him. The paramedics were shutting down and putting away their gear. He could faintly hear Adam’s voice sobbing in the background. He looked back down at the artist laying in the grass, who almost looked at peaceful as a couple days prior, sleeping on the sofa. _Not sleeping._ The realization hit him hard and sudden, and Aidan let out a choked sob and lay down alongside Dean, wrapping an arm around the still form, a hand resting his cheek, and crying.

* * *

“No,” Adam wailed into Graham’s arm. “No, I only left for ten minutes!”

“It’s not your fault,” Graham reassured him, rubbing a comforting arm down his back. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Adam’s tears continued to fall against Graham’s coat, washing the soot away. Graham turned around, seeing Aidan laying down next to the man he wouldn’t stop talking about for the last week. He swallowed his own tears and continued to comfort Adam, pulling him away from the scene and finding a quiet spot for him to settle.

* * *

Richard stood and moved away from Aidan, thanking Martin and Ian for their efforts, and returned to his truck to get updates from the other crews. The fire was contained and appeared to be out in most places, although crews would remain longer to rid the debris of any hot spots. All of the apartment’s residents had been accounted for and were well, aside from the one laying in the grass with Aidan. Aidan, usually the happy one comforting others, with his bright smile and laugh, who now looked more distraught than Richard ever wanted to see him. Richard sat back in his seat, his hand resting over his eyes as he tried to cover his own tears.


	7. Second Chances and Sandwiches

“Dean,” Aidan mumbled. “You were trying to come back, weren’t you? You still are, right?” His fingers brushed against Dean’s neck, and he sat up slowly, his mood changing rapidly from grief to anger. “You can’t leave now. We have so much ahead of us. You can’t give up now!” Frustrated and upset, Aidan pulled his fist back and struck it against Dean’s chest. “Don’t do this, Dean!” He pounded the artist’s chest a few more times until he stopped, horrified at his own actions.

“Oh Dean,” he rested his head on the still chest, “I’m so sorry.” Then Aidan heard a small wheezing noise, and forced himself still, listening. _Thump._ A long, too long pause. _Thump. Thump._ Aidan sat up frantically, kneeling over Dean, listening carefully. There was another, faint wheeze.

“RICHARD! MARTIN!” he shouted, startling everybody nearby. He couldn’t get anymore words out, not at that volume, and looked up frantically waiting for somebody to come to him, afraid to touch Dean now, afraid to upset the situation.

Both Martin and Richard reached him simultaneously, looking down but not daring to believe. “He’s breathing! He has a pulse!” Aidan’s eyes went wide. “He’s alive! Please help him!” Martin turned on his heel, darting back to the ambulance and Aidan glanced up at Richard. “He’s alive,” he said again, smiling through watery eyes at his captain. “He’s going to be okay. Richard, he’s going to be okay!”

Richard reached down to extend a hand to Aidan. “We should let Martin and Ian check him first,” Richard said gently, afraid to get Aidan’s hopes up. “He’s been out for some time, there could still be damage. Come on up, you can watch from beside me, just back here.”

Martin was back quickly, reading for a pulse while Ian began administering oxygen again. Richard and Aidan looked on nervously, and then a grin appeared over Martin’s face. “You’re right, Aidan. He’s alive. Let’s get him to the City General so he can stay that way,” Martin reached across to give Aidan’s fist a squeeze. Ian appeared again with the stretcher, and Richard helped both of them lift Dean onto the gurney. The paramedics secured Dean to the stretcher, placing the oxygen tank between his legs and fastening the face mask, then pushed him toward the ambulance. Aidan stepped side to side, his eyes fixed on Dean.

“I want to ride with him,” Aidan called out to the paramedics, but Richard grabbed his wrist.

“They need their space,” he explained. “I’ll take you in the command truck,” he walked around past the fire truck, eventually finding Graham with Adam, who wais sitting with his head in his hands. “Graham,” he called out, announcing his presence. “Can you finish up the scene. I need to take Aidan to the hospital. And I think Adam might want to join him.”

“Is Aidan hurt?” Adam sniffed.

“Aidan injured his arm,” Richard answered. “But Dean will need your support more when he wakes.”

Adam jumped to his feet, then noticed the paramedics wheeling Dean away. “He’s alive? He didn’t- But he is?” He rushed to Richard, hugging him around his middle. “Oh, thank you thank you!”

“You’re best thanking Aidan,” Richard smiled, motioning to the exhausted yet anxious young man beside him. “It seems Dean returned to him. Let’s get going, shall we?”

* * *

Hours later Dean was laying in the intensive care unit. Adam sat on one side of the bed, and Aidan on the other edge with Richard beside him. It took more than a little prodding from Richard to get Aidan to finally ditch the remainder of his turnout gear, which Richard stashed back in his truck. Once that was off, a doctor was able to see to the young fireman’s arm, which appeared heavily bruised. It took another hour to coax Aidan into a x-ray where the arm was in fact fractured, and a half hour later it had been straightened and set into a brace. By the end of it, Richard had never seen Aidan so grumpy; he whined and complained about being kept away from Dean, although Adam had promised to find him if Dean woke. 

Richard was pleased to finally return Aidan’s to Dean’s beside where he went quiet and settled into the recliner. Not long after, Aidan was asleep and Adam and Richard looked at each other, clearly exhausted. “I need to return to the station and get some rest,” Richard said to Adam. “Aidan won’t be able to work, but I’ll be needed there.”

Adam nodded and stifled a yawn. “I missed rehearsal tonight,” he glanced over to Dean. “But they’ll understand. I should head home too. What about Aidan?”

“He won’t leave,” Richard answered without hesitation. “I’ll bring him some clean clothes from his locker tomorrow. Do you need a lift home?”

“Yes,” Adam replied. “That would be helpful, thanks. I’ll come back in the morning too.” He stood and made his way over to Dean, giving his hand a squeeze and leaning over him. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he whispered, and headed out door. 

Richard did the same, heading to Aidan’s side long enough to give him a pat on the shoulder and ruffle his hair fondly, then lay a hand on Dean’s shoulder briefly. “You must be very special,” he whispered to the sleeping man. “I’ve never seen Aidan so taken with anybody.” He followed Adam out, leaving the two asleep.

* * *

“Aidan?” a hoarse voice whispered. “Aidan?”

Aidan jerked awake, his head pounding, and looked to where Richard and Adam had been sitting first, surprised to see them gone. He turned his head to the bed, where bright blue eyes stared at him.

“Aidan?” Dean whispered again. He tried to sit up but managed to raise his back only a few inches off the bedding before he was trembling.

Aidan leapt out of the recliner, nearly stumbling into the hospital bed. “Dean,” he said breathlessly. “You’re here. I’m here. Lay back down, please,” he pressed him back against the bed. “You’re going to be okay,” Aidan said, lifting his good arm to Dean’s cheek. “Thank goodness, you’re going to be okay.”

“What happened?” Dean asked. “I remember the smoke, and I managed to reach the bathroom. And then I saw you, standing over me like a guardian angel,” he looked over fondly. “And then I could just feel you nearby,” he paused. “I’m not sure what happened.” Dean glanced at Aidan’s arm, held steady by a sling. “You’re hurt! Are you okay?”

Aidan gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s a small fracture, but it’s fine. Your apartment building caught fire,” Aidan explained. “I went in and it collapsed around us, but Richard and Graham were able to pull us out. And then...you…”

Dean smiled weakly. “You’re a firefighter.”

“Yeah Dean, I am. Well, was anyway. We’ll see if they let me keep my job after I disobeyed orders,” he saw a look of concern cross Dean’s face and regretted his words. “But don’t worry about it. As long as you’re okay. I was so worried about you. I thought-” he stopped himself and closed his eyes. “You’re here with me now,” he reaffirmed, mostly for himself.

Dean coughed. “Water?” Aidan looked at the side table, finding a small cup of water with a straw, and held it while Dean leaned forward again to take a few long, slow sips before falling back, relief written across his face. “Why didn’t you tell me you were a firefighter?” he asked, his voice a little less hoarse.

“I was scared to tell you,” Aidan confessed. “There’s a lot of people who don’t want to be with a firefighter,” he explained. “They’re too afraid of losing us. And it is a possibility. So I didn’t want to tell you straight away,” he explained. “It was selfish of me. I wanted as much time as possible with you before you found out. I thought you might leave me when you knew...it’s happened before.”

“Not afraid,” Dean replied, still whispering. “Like you too much. Won’t leave.”

Aidan smiled and lifted Dean’s hand to his own cheek, cradling it. “You nearly did,” he choked at the end, “but I’m glad you decided to stay.”

“Wanted to come back to you,” Dean smiled, his eyes slipping closed. “Think I love you, Aidan.”

Aidan leaned over and kissed his nose. “I think I love you, Dean.”

* * *

“And one exquisitely crafted peanut butter and jelly sandwich,” Aidan announced, bringing around the plate and a glass of milk to Dean, who sat on Aidan’s sofa with his broken leg propped up on a footstool. 

“Just like Mum used to make,” Dean laughed and took the food, setting it on the furniture’s arm and freeing his hand to loop through Aidan’s belt and tug him into sitting beside him. 

“Eat up. I’m not much of a cook, unfortunately. I’m sorry but you’re stuck with takeaways and sandwiches,” Aidan slipped an arm around Dean’s shoulders, pulling him over to plant a kiss on his forehead.

“I can show you a few recipes when I can move around easier,” Dean replied. “Lucky for you, I can cook.”

“I knew there was a reason I wanted to bring you home with me,” Aidan grinned. “You’re perfect.”

“Oh, you think so, do you? So tell me,” Dean said, spinning the sandwich around the plate absently, “would you still like me if I crashed your truck?”

“Absolutely.”

“What if I...got you fired?”

“Still would.”

“If I cut down an entire rainforest?”

“Not a problem.”

“Blew up the sun?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“What if I...destroyed all the bacon in the world?”

Aidan paused and gave him a serious look. “Then you and I would be having unpleasant words.”

Dean laughed and threw his arms around Aidan.. “Well, at least I understand your limits,” he hugged him and then pulled back to continue his lunch in Aidan’s lounge. Once the hospital had decided that Dean was no longer in any danger from the smoke inhalation he had suffered, and his small burns and previous leg injury were stable, Aidan had happily offered his own home for Dean to recover in, since the loss of his apartment. He was more than thrilled when Dean accepted, and was even more excited at the prospect of waking up daily to find the artist beside him. He didn’t want it to end, and tried to steel himself to tackle the topic that had been plaguing his mind.

Dean ate the sandwich, eyes on the midday news as Aidan sat quietly beside him, focused on more on his guest than the television. Dean sat the plate across his good leg and smiled bashfully at Aidan. “What are you staring at?”

Aidan returned the smile. “You.” His smile slipped from his face and he reached down to the floor. “I brought the classified section home like you requested,” he said. “Did - you - are you looking now?”

Dean took the newspaper from his hand. “I should get a new home sorted out soon,” he opened the pages up. “I don’t want to be a burden any longer than I have to. I really appreciate everything you’ve done. And maybe I can get a place nearby and we can still see each other?”

“Yeah,” Aidan sighed. “I suppose I was hoping,” he paused and crossed his arms momentarily, than uncrossed them and reached out to take Dean’s hand in both of his. “Dean, I want you to stay here with me. You have no idea how happy it makes me to wake up every day and watch you sleep. To make you terrible, boring sandwiches. To watch old movies with you. Dean, I want you to stay here with me, because I like looking after you. Not just the injuries,” he motioned to the cast, “but you. I want to be able to take care of you for a long time. I know it’s quick but I’m so sure of this.”

Dean’s hand trembled, and Aidan held onto it tighter. “Please, what’s wrong?”

Dean looked away. “I love that idea,” he said, but his tone betrayed his words.

“But?”

“But...Aidan, what do you see in me? How did you even know that I would fall for you?”

Aidan smiled at Dean’s last three words. “I didn’t when I first said hello. I merely thought you were attractive and said hello. And then you blushed, and smiled at me, and I knew, and I was smitten. And you’ve done nothing but make me happy. Well, and worried, but you’re going to be okay now,” he swallowed. “Dean, I now know my mission is life is to make sure you’re safe, content and happy, because that makes me happy. And I’d really like to continue that mission, with you here at my place. Will you stay with me? Forever?”

Dean went limp as he looked at Aidan’s worried face, and he suddenly realized how much power he had over this amazing man. His brave, handsome firefighter looked seconds from breaking down, and he felt his own heart twist, realizing how he too needed to see Aidan happy, and the joy that brought to him. And in that moment he realized he need nothing more in his life other than Aidan smiling beside him. 

“Yes,” Dean smiled, squeezing his hand. “I’ll stay here with you.”

Aidan suddenly looked like he would burst open with joy; his eyes wide, grinning then laughter pouring out. He reached over, grabbing Dean by the waist and pulling him over and onto his lap. Dean winced as his foot fell free of the footstool, but Aidan leaned over to gently prop it up across the sofa, and then wrapped his arms around and nuzzled against his neck.

“Thank you so much,” he whispered, squeezing the blond man tightly. “I’m going to look after you.”

“I know,” Dean replied, knotting his fingers into Aidan’s hair and pulling him up to face him. “One month ago, I never thought this would happen,” he said. “Bad luck comes in threes, but it was all worth it in the end.”

“No more superstitions,” Aidan whispered. “It’s all good luck from here on, and we’ll see each other through it all.”

Dean smiled and leaned in, pressing their lips together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have the conclusion of my first proper foray in fanfiction. I never dreamed it would be in the RPF section; it started out as Fili/Kili but quickly morphed to this. I hope everyone enjoyed the ride, and thanks so much for all the encouraging support - all of the readers and kudos and comments! I've got another fic in progress (started before this one), which features Fili, Kili and Thorin and sits around 60,000 words thus far. Still needs some work before I'm content to start putting up chapters, but I look forward to sharing that one soon!


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